#Nikolai fanfic

[honeydazai]

hai! can I get 'doing their makeup for them' with nikolai pls?

Nikolai + 'doing their makeup for them'

milestone drabble event! 🪻

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“You have awfully pretty eyes.”

The words spill from your lips so very easily; after all, they're the truth. Leaning against him with one hand on his shoulder, your faces mere centimeters apart, you're able to get a particularly good look at just how stunning they are, shining in blue and yellow.

“Thanks.” Nikolai's smile is a little too wide, fraying at the edges. “You're supposed to concentrate on my makeup, though. Don't lose focus, now.”

You scoff. “I can multi-task just fine.” As if to prove your words, you add more mascara to his lashes, movements slow and gentle. “See?”

“I always do your makeup so carefully, though.” He pushes his lips forward into a pout, entirely too dramatic. “At least give the same effort back. Otherwise you're mean, you know?”

“I am making an effort”, you protest, eyebrows knitting together in mock unhappiness, “It literally looks so good. Take a look yourself if you don't believe me, but it's not like I didn't do just fine on your other eye.”

Nikolai merely hums in response — though that at least means he's not complaining anymore. Instead, the atmosphere shifts into something peaceful. Your palm cups his cheek, gently holding it to stop him from moving and messing your work up, and he leans into the touch, more cat than person.

Black goes with the colour scheme of his chosen outfit; it's a reasonable first guess, although Nikolai sighs as though it is not.

The quiet does not last for long; only until after you've peppered some glitter onto his lids.

“Quiz time”, Nikolai sing-songs, white bangs falling into his face as he moves, “What colour of eyeliner do you think I want to wear today?”

“Wrong. A shame. Ah, but — you know what? I'll let you guess again. Aren't I kind?”

“Very.” You squint at him, your head tilted to the side in a curious manner. It's not like there's an overwhelming amount of options; red and white are his other two most used colours, and white is closest. You pick mostly by random.

Nikolai makes a triumphant noise; before you're able to reach for the corresponding pen, he presses his lips to yours, the gloss on them sticky. You let out a soft noise, eyes fluttering shut, though he's already pulling back again, smirk mischievous.

“Continue, sweetheart.”

Jerk.

Still, you drag the felt tip over his eyelids, going for a cat-eye look; the very moment you're done, a mirror suddenly appears between the two of you, the power of The Overcoat, and Nikolai coos at his reflection, apparently in awe.

You try your best not to feel too smug. It's rather difficult when he's literally swooning. Then, sharp eyes snap back to you, determination sparking inside.

“Alright; it's my turn, now. Lean back, doll.”

notes: I WASN'T SURE IF THIS MEANT DOING HIS OR HIM DOING YOUR MAKEUP SO NOW IT'S KIND OF. BOTH??

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[chuubian]

Kinktober week three:

Guilty Pleasure

Tags Vampire Nikolai x gn reader, age gap, blood, tree sex, no prep, rough sex, no protection, pls try not to fuck strangers in the forest who drink your blood

Summary Ever since you were little, everyone in the village had warned you about what lurked in the woods. You should've listened.

A/N I felt like i should start making them actually Halloween themed, so from now on they'll be a little creepier and about supernatural things hehe. Also this was supposed to come out yesterday but its a little longer so it came out late sorry !!

An abyss of mystery had you completely surrounded. The small, glowing lantern in your hand was the only thing illuminating the way. This was so stupid. How could you possibly have thought this was a good idea? For years, the elders in your village warned you. It has been ingrained in your head that the woods are the one place that needs to be avoided. At all costs. When your cat had run into the trees you didn't even think twice- following behind it frantically. Unfortunately, she had a good sense of direction and you didn't. Knowing her, she was probably back home already, complaining loudly to be let in.

Hours have passed by and you still haven't found the exit. The dense greenery surrounding you started blending together after a while, making every landmark that might help you escape imperceptible and utterly useless. Now, the sun had completely hidden away. Although you had thought to bring your lantern- thank god- the shadows swallowed up the last remaining fragments of illumination shining from your lamp. It's like the forest knew that there was a small bit of warmth and light left inside, and it was trying to put it out as soon as possible.

Of course, at this perfect moment, your stomach started growling- twisting painfully and nagging at you- begging for food. If the wolves didn't know you were here before, they certainly did now- courtesy of your noisy digestive system. Seriously? It just had to happen now of all times? Now more than ever, you're determined to find your way out. Squinting, you try to see what's up ahead but the only thing your eyes can discern is the silhouette of a few trees right in front of you. Everything else is lost to the abyss encircling you. After nearly slamming your face into the rough bark of a few trees, you try to use your other hand to feel the air in front of you. Now, instead of hitting the tree face first, you'll be able to feel your way around it. It doesn't work. It's only taking you deeper into the dense jungle.

Not even the moon aids in your journey- cloaking herself under the veil of obscurity. Is it even worth it to try and get back right now? A few hours of hunger won't kill you, maybe it'd be best to rest for now and try again when the morning arrives. Sleeping on the floor isn't an option, what if an animal comes by and tries to eat you? So with great effort, you manage to climb a relatively small tree nearby. Your white nightshirt had gotten caught in a few branches and ripped near the bottom hem. Why did you think this was a good idea again? Especially in pajamas. Sitting on a wide branch, you contemplate what you'll do next. Maybe you could sleep- though that could be dangerous. 

As you set the lantern down next to you, the candle trapped inside starts flickering vigorously. Oh no. Had you let it burn for too long? It had not failed you this entire time, why did it have to be now? You just put a new candlestick inside the lamp, it's not even halfway burnt and there's no wind. How?? Desperately, you put your arms around the lantern- protecting it from whatever breeze may be trying to put it out. After a few more minutes of you huddling around the fire, it goes out completely. Leaving you alone in the cold night.

Adjusting your eyesight to the darkness proves to be harder than you thought. You can't even see your own hand in front of you.

A gentle current of wind brushes over your skin. Shivering, you put your hands on the still-warm glass covering the candle. Was it always this cold? You hadn't noticed it before, but maybe with the light out, you were forced to feel the true environment around you. The heat radiating off your dim lamp was comforting, soothing your forlorn soul. Leaves rustle and owls coo softly around you. Goosebumps rise all over your arms and legs. The heat warming your fingers, was struggling to thaw the rest of your body- leaving your feet frigid and tingling.

This was so stupid. Thinking that you could possibly survive in the woods was terribly naive. Now, you can't even sit in peace. There's an awful sensation in the pit of your stomach. Your hairs stand on end, pricking you painfully. Sweat forms a thin layer, coating the surface of your skin underneath. Anxiously, your eyes dart around. It's difficult to see when your eyes haven't adjusted to the blackness.

A small giggle cuts through the tense stillness. What was that?? Your muscles seize up, letting go of the lantern and sitting up straight. In your haste, the lamp is pushed off the edge of the branch- falling down to the ground below and shattering into a million pieces.

“Fuck.”

This is just your luck. Not only were you stuck here, now you have no light or warmth, and there's some freak roaming around who probably heard the glass smashing. Your throat tightens, nails digging into the rough bark- you had to hide. There was no other choice. With no chance of escape, what else could you do? At least it sounded far away. It should take a few minutes before they get here, if they even want to. When you try to get down from the branch you are on, a large hand settles over your shoulder.

“Got you!”

Your arm and neck are overcome by an intense pressure, the hand curls, digging its sharp nails into your flesh. A snake feels like it's wrapped itself around your throat- constricting any sound or air that may escape your lungs. Moving your body is a fruitless endeavor. As soon as you try to get out, the grip tightens, stopping any action in its tracks.

“Uh-uh, I didn't say you could move.”

Cold calloused fingers thread themselves through your hair, tugging your head back. How did he even get here so fast? especially without you hearing. Could it be the monster your village had warned you about? As sharp fangs brushed over your exposed throat, your heartbeat speeds up. Oh no. It is him for sure. Your worst fears are realized- the vampire.

If only you had listened. Your cat probably would have been fine by herself anyways. Why did it have to be you? Did god hate you that much? Honestly, you thought the legend about Nikolai Gogol was an urban myth. You had never seen him yourself, and sometimes you would stay near the edge of the forest but nothing would happen. You should've known. Those disappearances were not a coincidence.

You don't get the chance to protest before serrated teeth sink into the soft flesh on your neck. Pain blooms all throughout your larynx, down to the tips of your fingers- painting your skin flowering reds and purples. Nikolai’s tongue laps up the sweet droplets that seep out of your twin wounds. Like it was a five star meal.

His cold solid chest presses against your back, arms caging you in. Your mouth dries, like it's filled with cotton. You blink rapidly, trying to rid your eyes of the tears that started to build up. He- no- It only found it more amusing. Chuckling, it unlatched itself from your neck, leaving behind a wet spot on your neck of saliva and blood. It was sure to stain.

“You're crying? I didn't think you'd be so weak.”

“Go to hell.”

Twisting over to face him, you plant your trembling hands on his torso. When did you become so shaky? Your muscles feel so weak and heavy… how? Ignoring the instability, you shove as hard as you can, but he doesn't budge. Your eyes- now starting to adjust to the low light- can make out his wide grin and glowing iris. He doesn't see you as a threat in the slightest. Without hesitation, he smacks you down against the branch. Like you were nothing more than an annoying bug. Your head bangs against the bark painfully, bouncing up slightly from the sheer force it went down with. A searing ache washes over the back of your head, extending out to the tips of your fingers. Forming proper thoughts is a struggle. Fear paralyzes you, rendering any plan your muddled brain could come up with pointless. Pulling firmly on your hair, he exposes your throat to him again. Your scalp burns but you can't find it in you to move.

“You tasted good before.. I think I need a little more.”

Nikolai's freezing lips make contact with the side of your neck, right by your jugular. A shiver runs down your spine, blood running cold. This is how you die. Would your friends miss you? What would have happened if you stayed home? Your belly would have been full with a nice, hearty, warm stew and you would have already been in bed, resting peacefully. God would not have forsaken you like this. Would not have left you to this monster- this devil. He was an abomination. Your throat spasms under the strain of his needle-like fangs piercing the surface of your skin. But for some reason, this time, it doesn't hurt. A sense of satisfaction sweeps across your body.

Embarrassingly, a small whiney squeal escapes your throat. You can feel his lips stretching wider- enjoying your dilemma. You shouldn't like this. It's wrong. He's a curse, a mistake. A monster who was abandoned by its own god. But the sparks of pleasure dancing down your spine makes it hard to resent him.

“You like this don't you?”

He detaches himself from your throat, slurping up the small drops that dribble out like he was starving. Up until now, you hadn't realized how lightheaded you felt. He definitely drank far too much. Heat flashes over you, your heart never felt so confused. On one hand, you could die at the hands of this man. He's already far too eager to drain you completely. But on the other hand, you couldn't escape anyways and it felt so… good.

Nikolai giggles, running his cold hand down your sternum. His thigh slots itself between your legs, pushing them apart. In this position, you can see his features much easier. He has a weird black and white costume on and a card eyepatch. The scar over his blue eyes is oddly attractive. Unconsciously, your fingers come up to graze over it. The skin is raised and smoother than the rest of his face. A soft shininess is evident on the reddened blemish.

“How did you get that?”

Maybe it was rude to ask, but your curiosity got the better of you.

“A tiny little fight, only a few hundred years ago.”

He says it so comfortably, like it's not absolutely insane.

“… Hundreds..?”

Eye widening, his lips purse into a little ‘o’.

“Oh no, I let it slip!”

The white haired man seems genuinely surprised at this point, almost disappointed in himself. His eyebrows furrowed together- hands pulling at his own hair. After slapping his own forehead a few times, he sits up straight. All distress is washed off his face, replaced with a wicked grin.

“Of course it's hundreds.. Do you humans not go to school? Do you even know what a vampire is? its vampire, vaam-piieee-eeerr.”

Okay that's just insulting. Your face heats up in embarrassment as you nudge his shoulder lightly.

“But you know… I guess that means you think I look young. I guess my 20 step skincare routine came in handy hehehe?”

Nikolai gets up closer, showing you his skin, dragging your fingers over his cheek.

“See? Feel.”

Soft skin makes contact with the tips of your fingers. He's ancient. Your mind drifts back to all those horrible legends. The rumors of him cutting his victims open cruelly, draining them completely, and bathing in their blood. You're not gonna let him think that acting in such a ruthless manner was working for him.

“You could use more moisturizer.”

He laughs sarcastically, face twisting like he's bitten into a lemon. A narrowed eye pierces into your soul. The air around you grows thicker, and it felt like something was pressing down into your chest.

“Ha ha. You shouldn't talk to me that way you know. I'm capable of horrors you couldn't even imagine. So behave. It's for your own good.”

Patting your cheek condescendingly, his lips spread into an ominous smirk. Your hands clench nervously- knuckles brushing against the rough bark underneath you. Was he going to kill you?

“Hehehe! Did I scare you??”

He bursts into boisterous chortles. Leaning in until his nose touches yours, he stares eerily- hot breath fans over your face, sending shivers down your spine.

“You're not funny…”

Grumbling, you turn away, looking at the bushel of branches and leaves beside you and all around. Frigid fingers dig into your cheek sadistically, making you look back at the vampire hovering over you.

“Look at me.”

His leering gaze travels up and down your body, taking in the ripped pajamas and exposed skin. It leaves you feeling dirty. Carefully, he lets go of your cheeks. his big hands go down to rest beside your head- holding his weight up as his body settles itself between your legs.

“… You're kind of pretty for a human.”

Pointed nails catch on your nightshirt- snagging the fabric on his way down your sides. A trail of fire rushes his touch. Your breathing picks up, from this place on your back, you can see the way his pupil dilates, how he keeps licking his lips. Like he wants to devour you whole. Electricity surges between you when he makes eye contact. His fangs are still out, hanging over his bottom lip- a small part of you wishes he would sink his fangs in your neck and drink more.

For a moment, you forget where you are. Time trickles by slowly, weighing down all your movements with its dense pressure. Your heart pounds in your chest, pumping the blood through your veins so vigorously your limbs are wobbling. His eye darts down to your lips before glancing back up again- you don't even notice when he leans closer. 

A muscular arm slides around your waist, pulling your body against his big one. Nikolai does not wait any longer before slanting forward and pressing his lips against yours. His tongue is hot against yours, nibbling on your bottom lip lightly- he deepens the kiss when you gasp, teeth clashing against yours. Your hands travel up his suit, clutching onto the lapels of his jacket and pulling him closer. As the flavor of iron fills your mouth, he lets out a deep groan- pressing his hips against yours.

“Fuck.. I can't hold back any more.”

The white haired man only pulls away for a few seconds before diving right back in. But this time he doesn't go in for a kiss, instead nosing at your windpipe, longing to bury his canines in your flesh. A small whine threatens to escape- your head tilts bare your throat for him. Impatiently, your hands lurch forward, trying to hold him still. You can't let yourself enjoy it. It would ruin you.

“Ah-ah. I didn't say you could touch.”

Nikolai seizes your wrists in his hold, pinning them down against the rough branch under you. They were sure to have colorful bruises and gashes painted across your skin tomorrow. His voice is cold, freezing you in your place. Fierce warmth fills you up. Squirming uncomfortably, you find it hard to breathe. It's hot. Too hot. The nightshirt is suffocating your skin, making you feel itchy. Your body is begging you to rip the stupid fabric off- to obtain at least some level of relief.

“Y-you're too slow.”

His hands are frigid. You can recognize them working on pulling you free of your pajamas, soothing your boiling form beneath him. Your body jerks, frantically helping him. When he finally manages to wretch it off you, he tosses it away, watching as it descends down, fluttering in the gentle wind. Your brain is clouded in pleasure, torso arching into his touch as he presses searing kisses down your sternum. He leaves small nips here and there- enjoying the way your body shivers, the way blood rushes to the surface and stains your skin pretty colors.

“H-hurry I need-”

His nails bite into your sides. He tsks, scolding you.

“Shut up. I know what you need.”

Something in your head buzzes- keening as Nikolai drags his canines over your nipple, refusing to commit, refusing to finally bite. He's being so mean. You squirm, pushing up into him, desperate for more. Icy fingers smooth over your exposed lower tummy, forcing your back against the tree holding you up.

“Poor thing..”

An explosion of electricity tumbles over you when he pierces your nipple with his pointy fangs. You choke on your own breath, staggering as a pitchy wail streams out of your lungs. His tongue eagerly sucks and licks at the little nub. It feels like your nerves are on fire, raw and severed. Dark red stains the corners of his mouth, lips shiny and slick with spit.

A series of kisses are left down your torso. Saliva and blood mark the spots Nikolai embraced. Like a proof of ownership. Claiming you as his. His teeth tug at the edge of your underwear, pulling them off you slowly, hands pushing your legs apart and slipping between them. The air nips at your skin, forming goosebumps up your exposed frame. A violent shudder wracks your body, pelvis twitching down to roll against his.

“Fuck this, i cant wait any more.”

Ridding himself of his pants, he drags his pointy nails up your thigh relentlessly. They’re like knives, cutting you open and watching the sweet liquid rush out. It drips slowly, fighting against gravity pulling it down. Pushing your thigh up against your chest, Nikolai spits into his hand, and wraps his slick fingers around himself. The blood drizzles down onto your chest, leaving small red beads of fluid on your torso.

The blunt head of his cock bumps against your entrance, slowly nudging itself inside. It burns- stretching you open, forcing your body to adjust to him. You moan weakly, hands finding purchase in the muscles on his back. Your veins pulse with want- need. A distressed sob traps itself in your chest, your body spasms in an attempt to keep down the embarrassing sound.

“Nghh.. N-Nikolai…”

Your tongue feels too big in your mouth, stiff and struggling to form the proper shape necessary for speech. Nikolai coos softly, angling his hips until the tip of his cock nudges against your sweet spot. A low mewl bubbles in your throat.

“Shhh… I know I know.”

You're so full, he's hot and throbbing inside of you, pushing in until his pelvis is pressed against your ass. Tears form in the corner of your eyes, blurring your vision of the man above you. As his lips draw back and slam back in, your back is dragged against the rough surface of the tree under you. You cry out weakly, sweat beading down your forehead. His hips roll into you deliciously- punching the air out of your lungs, lighting your veins on fire.

Brain clouded with lust, your arms shakily wrap around his shoulders. He leans down, tongue lapping at the little drops of blood that had gotten on your chest, moaning softly.

“So good.. You taste so good.”

The head of his cock crashes against your sweet spot, scattering violent jolts of static through your body, fogging your thoughts. The brutal pace makes his pelvis strike against the flesh of your ass. Carving out a space for himself inside you.

Your body is overloaded by sensation, body sticky and blistering. The heat sinks from the surface of your skin to your core, pooling and forming a boiling hot spring- threatening to burst out like a geyser. Your ears are numbed. Your legs are trembling, muscles struggling to hold themselves together. Nikolai can feel you clenching around him, sucking him in hungrily, like you'd die if he left your clutches. He groans, nuzzling at the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“I just- hah- want to drain you.”

His needle-like canines scratch over your neck. Hips slam against you brutally, driving his cock into your sensitive spot. Your mind is blissfully empty, focusing only on the pleasure he brings you, submissively baring your throat for him. Unintelligible babbles burst out of your lungs.

“P-please… mmmnng..”

Nikolai’s sharp fangs bury themselves in the junction of your shoulder and neck. White hot pleasure flows through your veins, stealing the breath from your lungs, bursting the knot that was forming in the bottom of your stomach. Waves of satisfaction roll over your body, quenching the burning heat that had engulfed your body for so long. He growls lowly, releasing hot spurts into you. Your nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, struggling to hold onto your lucidity. Red liquid drips down your neck as drool pools in the corners of your mouth.

It sounds like white noise is playing inside your eardrums as time moves in slow motion. One second you're staring up at the man above you blankly, and the next you're fully clothed again in a luxurious bed. Where was this? You couldn't even move to look around- your body was so weak and sore from the night before that sitting up was a significant struggle. Your eyes flutter closed, body turning to bury itself further into the soft sheets. The bruises and scratches littering your figure left a painful reminder of what had taken place. Of him. As your body starts to relax and fall into a restful slumber, your brain barely manages to make out the sound of a mischievous giggle from outside the room.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

A Reunion to Remember (John Price x Nikolai x Reader)

Summary: It's a special day, not that John realises as he walks right into a set-up of his lovers’ making.

AN: This is part of @bunnyreaper's Valentine's Day Fic Swap for @bookobsessedram <3 I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Content warnings: Allusions to sex (18+ only, minors DNI), reader wears some lacy underwear (not specified), pronouns not used but John calls the reader "sweet girl".

Masterlist

It was once in a moon as crystal blue as his eyes that Captain John Price got the opportunity to collect on intel and deals for himself. After a month of Sundays was when he felt up to it. Usually there were officers undercover, various rats, CIA operatives who could handle that kind of thing – Kate having her own networks of underlings to seek out the truth.

Yet today John made sure that he was the person going to gather this and Kate allowed it. Both of these actions were made with the same reason in mind: it required an interaction with Nikolai. Neither John nor Kate told the brass that, of course. Fed into their paperwork was something about maintaining relationships with allies in important places across the world.

Three train rides, a red-eye flight and a hired car brought John to exactly where he wanted to be: a familiar hanger with an apartment built along the side, fit for the purpose of his visit, overcast clouds hiding their illicit rendezvous from the glare of the sun.

Nikolai spotted John before John spotted him, scaling down the plane and sauntering out the hanger. The two men engaged in a light jog. Delight burrowing in their cheeks and chests, they clapped hands, hugged, and – with the absence of the task force to observe – shared a whiskery kiss, engine oil mixing with cigar smoke in a bitter reunion.

“Glad to see you, Captain.”

“Been too long, Nik.”

“Good thing I coaxed you over, impeccable timing too.” Though his brow creased in curiosity, Price didn’t question – for now – what his boyfriend meant by that whilst following his lead back into the hanger. He spoke briefly about the state of his journey before Nikolai’s gloved hand grasped John’s jaw.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Fourteenth, why?”

“Anything springing to mind? Anything important?”

After a moment’s consideration, John shook his head slightly with a suspicious squint. Cocking his head over one shoulder, Nikolai let out a two note laugh and whistled sharply through his teeth.

Your arms popped out first through the open canopy, shortly followed by your head as you crowed, “Surprise!”

John’s hearty hoot echoed around the hanger as he removed his hat to clutch to his chest while catching his breath – the one that you took away from him every time he saw you. These occasions had grown more scarce nowadays. If two of your throuple meeting up was like finding a four leaf clover, then all three of you coming together was an entire landscape of the bastards.

Trying to work out what you being with them had to do with the date and felt a fleeting flash of fear at the impossibility of it being your anniversary. It wasn’t. So, while he watched you clamber down the steps with Nikolai holding your hand, John wracked his brain for the connection.

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” John approached the foot of the steps.  

Rolling your eyes, you pointed semi-accusingly at him, “You, Jonathan Price, are a difficult man to get a meeting with.”

“Kate knew?”

Nik kicked over a footstool, “She knows everything; I thought you understood that.”

“Enough about work.” You dragged the stool over with the tip of your foot, stepped up on it, grabbed John by the straps of his vest and tugged him to your level for a long-awaited kiss.

Sandwiched between the barrel chests of your two lovers was your new reality. Some idealist cell in your brain sparked in hope that it could be your permanent home with John on your lips and Nik on your neck – right where a crick was just emerging.

Forced to pull away, you stretched out the muscle on your neck, “Fuckin’ hell, I’ve been folded in that cockpit for half an hour waiting for you to show up.”

“Good thing today’s all about treating you,” Nik squeezed your shoulder and you prayed this was a precursor to a full back rub. Your Nik was very talented with his hands like that.

You cupped his cheek, swaying on the spot as he moved down to hold onto your hips, “Too right.”

Simultaneous to your affection exchange, John was frowning again. The date, the expectation of the day, the apparent arrangement that had gotten him and his two partners in the same place…

His eyebrows relaxed and his face cleared.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” He said quietly.

Locking onto John’s confounded expression – a rarity that you relished - you ribbed, “You’re just now getting that?”

John coughed a laugh out to cover his embarrassment, “I’m out of practice.”

Your eyes flashed in amusement and the recollection of rumours of Price being a bit of a bunny in his rookie days – rumours that probably had no foundation. Your source had been Soap while he’d been stirring for the circumstances of your relationship to his Captain.

“We’ll be sure to warm you up a bit first then,” You promised as you led John like a pleasant smell wafting from a kitchen, into Nikolai’s private apartment.

Familiar décor welcomed you in, plus the smell of candles that Nikolai was lighting. Apparently he was going all out with the classic stuff. John found himself not turning up his nose at them, nor at the idea of potentially being fed chocolate like in an advert he’d seen on plastered on the train. Once he’d locked the door behind him, John found himself faced with an outstretched rose from Nikolai. You were already beaming behind your own flower.

“Nik,” Price’s cheeks were determined to show him up, shifting in shade to match the roses. His eyes rolled but were clearly contradicted by his grin and how he was unable to hide it.

“What?” Nikolai replied innocently, “I can’t get my partners flowers on the most romantic day of the year?”

“But I didn’t get either of you anything.”

Rose tucked in the crook of your elbow, your thick jacket protecting you from the thorns, you took off John’s hat, tossing it off onto Nikolai’s desk. It clashed into the pencil pot and covered up the photograph taken of your throuple the last instance you’d been together (post-helicopter ride across Belarus). You didn’t acknowledge it, choosing instead to run your fingers through John’s cool cropped hair.

“You didn’t even know it was Valentine’s Day; no shit you got us nothing,” You ribbed before getting serious, “John, we’re just glad you’re here with us.”

His nose nudged down into the petals of his rose, and you scratched the back of his neck where his hair stubbled. Like a cat, he hummed in encouragement.

“I’ll make it up to you anyhow,” He whispered, “Sweet girl.”

“Yeah, there’s always next year,” You gave a playful little tug before releasing him. As if he didn’t know that there was nothing to forgive and you meant every word: you just wanted to be near him.

 Nikolai swooped in to peck John on the lips. A peck turned into a more intoxicating kiss, one that shut up his boyfriend effectively.

John would’ve happily let Nikolai take all the kisses he wanted but he spotted you, in his peripherals, watching dreamily sat on the desk. Your legs swung back and forth gleefully. His hat was in your lap as you twisted the rose around by the stem. Nikolai drew away and in a deep breath at the hearts your pupils were shifting into.

“Get back over here,” He said with two fingers coaxing you over, “And take that jacket off.”

Dutifully, you followed his instructions. A gift from your previous engagement, your jacket was draped it where Nikolai had done the same to his signature tan leather jacket, leaving John feeling overdressed when he caught a hint at something lacy and meadow green peeking out where your skin showed, your shirt caught on your jacket removal. Greed suddenly sprouted from his blooming heart and latching onto you by your plush hips when you were within reach, hauling you close and murmuring how much he adored you while you twisted Nikolai’s chain between compliments and neck kisses as if idle. You were about to be anything but, in for one hell of a reunion.

-----------------

I made your love language physical touch because you’re away from your boys so much that you just wanna soak it up when you’re with them. Nikolai’s is gifts (like when he gives Price his favourite gun and his hostages <3) because he loves seeing how his partners react to something that made him think of them. Price’s is words of affirmation because he’s a man of his word and equally loves seeing how his partners are affected by them.

[shakespearseclipse]

Is it chill that you’re in my head?

Summary: Nikolai and y/n have been friends and nothing more. But what happens when the feelings between them change?

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Hi there! This is my first fanfic (that I’ve posted) and English is not my first language, But I hope you’ll still enjoy this. Oh, and I really don’t know (or care) if this is canon compliant. I might consider writing a second part if anyone is interested. :)

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Nikolai was sparring with Tolya again. Which was nothing out of the ordinary except for one thing: He was shirtless. Unsurprisingly, the number of observers had doubled, young Grisha girls surrounding the lake where the sparring took place. You could only roll your eyes at their obvious stares. Although you had to admit that your best friend was quite nice to look at. Well, that would be an understatement. He looked absolutely marvelous, muscles moving with every movement of his. Everything about your friendship was platonic, but in moments like these, you weren’t sure if you wanted that.

Unfortunately, a group of Etherealki started talking about Nikolai, which didn’t aid your daydreaming to stop.

“Oh, just look at his arms!”

“And his abs.”

You had to hold in a chuckle, it was entertaining to hear these young girls whispering on and on about him. Being completely fixated on the Etherealki’s conversation, you almost missed the wink that Nikolai had thrown you from the sparring ring. Which was a really stupid idea in hindsight, since it caused him to shift his attention from Tolya, which resulted in him barely dodging a punch in the face. Now you couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Did you see that? He gave her a wink!”

“She is definitely in love with him!”

“Can you blame her? Who isn’t in love with him?”

It wasn’t the first time you heard people speculating about your friendship with Nikolai, so you had a lot of experience in tuning out these comments. This time however, you couldn’t help but think about a relationship with your best friend. There was no point in denying that he would be an amazing boyfriend. He was funny, attentive, friendly and obviously his good looks wouldn’t pose a problem either. Distracted by your daydreaming, you didn’t notice that the fight had ended.

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The second Nikolai left the sparring ring, he overheard some Grisha men talking about some girl in the audience. He decided to stick around and see who they were fussing about.

“She looks amazing. She should wear this red dress more often.”

“Oh yeah, this dress is amazing.”

“I think I’m going to ask her out today.”

After searching the crowd Nikolai realized that the only girl wearing a red dress was his best friend y/n. He couldn’t help but agree with these men. You did look amazing in that dress. He had never thought about you in any way that was not platonic, but now he felt like he couldn’t shake the idea off. Your hair looked so soft in the sunlight he desperately wanted to touch it. And he didn’t even dare thinking about your lips. His brain told him to stop this staring, but his body wouldn’t turn away. He couldn’t let you go on a date with this guy. The thought alone made want to throw up. But that is normal, no? He was just protective of his friend.

“You can’t ask her out. She’s dating the tsar.”

Usually, Nikolai was not a fan of gossip and rumors, but this one he could let be. If it kept these slimy guys away from you, he was more than happy not to correct them.

“I don’t think she is. Have you ever seen them kiss or hold hands?”

“We could just ask. Excuse me, moi tsar, but there are rumors that you and y/n are dating, are they true?”

Nikolai couldn’t believe this guy. He just asked his king about some rumors. The audacity of this Inferni baffled him. A few seconds passed before Nikolai grumbled an annoyed “No.”

“Great! Thank you moi tsar!”

The Inferni immediately made his way over to you and Nikolai could do nothing but try to burn holes in his back with his looks. Which, surprisingly, did not work.

“What’s gotten you in such a bad mood?” Tamar, who had snuck up behind him asked. Nikolai didn’t respond, so she tried to follow his gaze. The second she realized what was going on, she couldn’t help the laughter that escaped.

“Have you finally acknowledged your feelings for her?”

“I don’t have feelings for her.”

“Sure, moi tsar.”

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Meanwhile, the Inferni called Dmitri had approached you. “Hello y/n.” You greeted him in return. He seemed to be quite nervous, though you couldn’t fathom why.

“Uhm, I wanted to tell you that you look very beautiful today and I wanted to ask you out for a coffee maybe?”

Your gaze fleeted to Nikolai, who was already staring at you. You believed you saw a muscle in his jaw jump. Your eyes drifted back to Dmitri. Maybe a date wasn’t a bad idea. The whole daydreaming about Nikolai today was probably just a result of your practical non-existent love life. Giving Dmitri your sweetest smile, you replied: “Thank you Dmitri, I would love to go on a date with you.”

After deciding the details of your date, you excused yourself and made your way towards your king, who hadn’t moved during your conversation with Dmitri.

“Hello kolya. You seem a little tense.”

When Nikolai finally turned to you, you felt your cheeks starting to burn under his stare. He was close and this proximity didn’t help your heart to slow down. You could feel his own beating just as hard, but you had no idea why. He leaned even closer before whispering in your ear.

“Oh dorogaya, you have no idea.”

Before you could reply, he was stalking away from you. Confused by both his unusual serious behavior and his last statement, you went back to the little palace to get ready for your date later with Dmitri.

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[frost-queen]

Spinning wheel (Grisha!Reader x Nikolai Lantsov)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: You are a heartrender Grisha who knows Nikolai from when he remained in the little palace. There you shared a rather intense dance where you can't keep your eyes off each other. It leads to so many almost kisses, he pulls you away after the dance to satisfy that. When Nikolai arrives in the spinning wheel he is greeted by a familair face, whom he thought had died due to Kirigan or the fold.

Before his glance met up with yours, you already knew. By the beating of his heart that he was aiming for you. Amongst the crowd was Nikolai. Prince Nikolai. Chatting with a Grisha as his gaze wandered towards you. Stunned and speechless at the same time. You saw him say goodbye to the Grisha, making his way over. A few dancers were performing their last steps as he walked across by the side-line. He smiled relieved holding his hand up. – “Y/n.” – he breathed out.

You quirked up a smile, hearing how his heartbeat spiked up in your presence. You laid your hand in his, feeling the smoothness of his palm. Nikolai closed his hand over yours. He started to walk backwards, gently guiding you to the open floor. Others joined, looking curious as to who the prince had chosen to dance with. – “You will return shortly.” – you said as he came to a stop. – “Yes.” – he answered lowly.

It made him look pitiful downwards. You smiled, tilting his chin up by your finger. – “Ravka needs their prince.” -  you told him as his eyes met up with yours. He smiled bowing his head to your hand. – “Yet Ravka has not earned you.” – you added making him frown. – “They do not deserve your heartful personage with all their cruelty in the world.” -  Nikolai brought your entangled hand up, giving it a kiss.

The music started when Nikolai and you turned half, placing a hand against one another. You went round in a circle. Switching course at the end, going back around. Your hand from behind your back, you brought upwards to take his. Spinning round, your gaze remained on him. He was forced to step backwards when you pushed forwards. – “You are leading.” – he whispered with a smile. It made you smirk flirtatious back at him.

You circled around with him as he kept chuckling at you leading the dance. Your hands up high let go, moving slowly down. Palms still pressed together; you circled around each other. You heard his breath shiver when staring at your eyes. The beating of his heart overpowering the music. You could only hear him. Steady with a flicker of yearning. You hopped once, turning underneath his arm. Nikolai couldn’t take his eyes of you, and neither could you.

You faced him as his hands ventured down to your waist. You gasped breathlessly when you felt his grip tighten on your waist. He picked you up, feet off the ground as he turned. He set you down slowly, making sure you were as close as possible to him. When your feet found steady ground, he subconsciously leaned forwards. Eyes drawn to your lips.

Blinking rapidly you weren’t even sure what his heartbeat was and yours. It beat in one steady line at the same pace. You had never experienced anything like that with anyone. Your reaction made Nikolai frown briefly. Wondering if anything was wrong. You smoothened your expression, smiling back at him. You made clear to him what it resolved around, placing your hand briefly near your heart. Nikolai copied your behavior.

He took a hold of you, dipping you down. His nose touched yours, stating at how close he was. You moved back up, looking down at his lips. The eagerness of kissing him burning on your lips. He took a deep breath, slightly tilting his head to the side. Eyes slowly closing as he wanted to kiss you. The steady beating of his heart loud to you. You inhaled, ready to receive him when something subconsciously made you pull apart. Nikolai and you spun away, rejoining to take each other’s hand.

You and him moved forwards with some keen footwork, body’s half facing each other. He brought your hand up, letting you spin twice underneath it. You lowered your arm near his face as his hand slid down your skin. You moved it behind your back, turning around. You met up with him as Nikolai knelt down, staring lovingly at you. You curtsied with a smile. Touching his cheek, he got back up, holding your hand against his cheek.

Nikolai let go of your hand when applaud filled the room. It startled the two of you. Both of you clapped along to thank the musicians. Looking around you noticed how some were whispering while looking your way. It made you swallow nervously. Had it been so obvious the way you danced with the prince?  Before you could ponder more, whisked Nikolai you away. Taking your hand as he pulled you off the dancefloor. Leading you through the crowd. – “The feast?” – you called out. Nikolai turned around, shushing you to keep quiet.

Feeling yourself fluster in his presence, you held your hand over your entangled hand with his. Not wanting to let go. Nikolai led you into the corridor away from the crowd. He didn’t stop till he was far out of reach. – “What are we…” – you started as he opened a door, pushing you inside. He shut the door while you admired your surroundings. It was a room you had never found yourself in.

Filled with books and a telescope. Before you could comment grabbed Nikolai you by the waist and neck. Pressing his lips onto yours. Back arched as he pulled you closer to him. Lips kissing yours desperately. His heart was pounding loud against his chest. It made you press your fingers into the fold of his shoulder to ease him down. He was working himself so up, you thought he might pass out from excitement. Nikolai felt his heartbeat slow down, making him pull briefly away to stare smiley back at you.

“I can’t have you have a heart attack over a kiss.” – you said teasingly. Nikolai laughed loud. – “Trust me it will take a lot for my heart to stop beating for you.” – he answered staring at your lips. You sucked in a breath, kissing him. The kiss was long and desperate. As if every second of it mattered. As if it was a first meeting and a last meeting at the same time. Thrilled to kiss for the first time yet saddened that it could be the last.

*

You exhaled loud, letting yourself fall back in the chair. – “Thank you Y/n.” – A Grisha said. You nodded too worn out to speak. The Grisha turned to the one laying down on a table. Wounded, yet still breathing thanks to you. The Grisha held his hands against the Grisha’s cheek on the table. Looking him in the eye. – “You are going to live… you are going to be alright.” – he said with hope.

The Grisha on the table, started crying. You got up, taking her hand. – “Thank you.” – you whispered with a lot of effort. You smiled down at her, feeling how tight she was squeezing your hand. Slowly letting go of her hand, you walked out, leaving her with some privacy. On your way out, you took a towel to clean the blood from your hands.

You then threw it aside. Massaging your shoulder, you untensed them. You moved a bit aside, closer to the wall seeing someone pass through. They were heavily wounded. Coming out of the corridor, you came to a crossing.

Wounded Grisha sitting or laying down to catch their breath. They had cuts and bruises. Some had lost a limb. All formed by the Darkling’s attacks. You yourself had been unlucky to encounter one of his attacks. Not as heavily damaged as many others but wounded and scarred. In your passing, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You stepped back, seeing yourself.

Coming closer with tears in your eyes. Your cheek bruised with red and blueness. Your fingers hovered over it shakily. Your gaze then went to your arms, knowing they had their scars. You had to look away or you’ll start crying your heart out. It was bad enough you still had nightmares. Walking away you came into the main entrance where everything connected. – “Y/n!” – a voice called out. You spotted a male Grisha calling you over. You saw he stood by another male Grisha panicking.

You ran over kneeling near him. – “He’s panicking. I can’t get him stable.” – the man told you. You looked down seeing how his leg was tied up with bandages. Taking a deep breath, you took a hold of the man. Listening to his heartbeat, you focused on slowing it down. Stop him from panicking. His breathing slowed down. You kept a close eye on him, lowering it to a normal rate.

From behind you, you heard some rumor. Loud new voices as their footsteps echoed in the spinning wheel. – “He should be alright now.” – you told the man. He nodded, thanking you. You got up, turning around as your eyes widened. – “Nikolai?” – you said loud and confused. Nikolai came to a stop, hearing his name, but unable to see from where it came. – “Nikolai!” – you called out louder, running over to him.

Nikolai gasped when he saw you. He sucked in a breath when you jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, spinning round with you. The people he was with, looking curious at him. He set you down, touching your cheek. – “You are real, you are here.” – he breathed out. You nodded placing your hand over his near your cheek. He noticed the bruises on your cheek, making him clench his jaw. – “Kirigan!” – he cursed out.

You grabbed his shoulder, untensing his muscles as you could tell he was getting worked up. – “It is alright Nikolai. I am alright.” – you reassured him. He exhaled deep, letting his forehead rest against yours. – “I thought you were dead. Taken by the fold or Kirigan…” – he confessed with sorrow. You shushed him again, grabbing him by the back of his neck, moving him closer. Lips almost touching. – “I am here.” – you whispered before kissing him.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[quarterlifekitty]

One thing that makes me go feral is when in the middle of fucking, one person gets overstimulated and tries to crawl and squirm away from the overstimulation, and the other person drags them back by the hips like "Where do you think you're going?" 😩 which of the guys do you think is most likely to do this?

(Can you tell I'm ovulating... 🫣)

ALL

cw: daddy kink adjacent stuff for Nik, as per usual. Just a hint of aggression, and marking dubcon just in case

Gaz is literally so sweet about it. Like you’re a little kitten about to walk off the edge of a table and he’s just redirecting you. “No, no, love— this way,” he coos as he puts his hand beneath your hips to cup you and pull you back.

Soap is about to lose his mind, it’s so hot to him— “Ah’m just givin’ it tae ye so good, huh, bonnie? Cannae take it anymore? Too bad,” he tuts, his fingers sunken into your soft flesh as he pins your kicking legs and tugs hard.

Ghost reacts with some real aggression. He’s not mad at you— he’s mad at the idea. The concept of you being separated from him. He’s bruising and yanking your body, manhandling you under his weight. “Don’t fuckin’ run from me, birdie— don’ wanna know what’ll happen if’m pulled outta this cunt—“

Price can’t help but smile. Such a sensitive little thing. “If you’re already in this state— doesn’t bode well for the rest of your night, darl’— cause I ain’t near finished with you.” He’s prepared to wait upon you like you’re his ailing, bedridden queen suffering from the consumption tomorrow, cause you’ll have about as much energy left when he’s done.

König is holding you too tight to let you even begin to squirm away— he can just feel the tense and strain of your muscles against his hands. It makes him kiss you as deep as he can manage— he just thinks it’s so cute, like you’re a little moth with wings beating against his cupped palms.

Nikolai laughs. He laughs at you. You’re just so silly— thinking papochka will show you mercy. He’s not a merciful man, malýshka. He’d best remind you of that— not that you’ll ever really learn. He wouldn’t want you to, really. He likes playing this little game with you. It’s like ballroom dancing to him— very romantic and sweet.

[walmart-icarus]

The captain has a rubber duck on his desk. A rubber duck with aviator sunglasses, to be more specific. It sits right next to his favorite mug and a framed picture of his childhood dog.

Ghost obviously notices. He tried not to say anything about it. He really did. But come on, it’s something he can make fun of his captain for. Would you pass up such an opportunity?

“The fuck is that?” He asks, pointing at the rubber duck

“The fuck does it look like?” Price answers, putting out his cigar on a hot pink ashtray that says BLOWJOB QUEEN with big sparkly letters (a gift from Gaz and Soap, naturally). There’s a brief pause before Ghost opens his mouth again.

“Where’d you get it, then? We barely have the time to-“

“Gift from Laswell.” Price set his pen down with a sigh, giving up on the paperwork in front of him.

They both stare at the duck in silence, observing it.

“Kinda looks like Nikolai, innit?”

Price nods and chuckles. A week later, on the bookshelf right behind the captain’s chair sits three rubber ducks. One with a cap, one with a Mohawk, and one with a mask.

[jingyuanswallet]

bro. can people stop with the inc3st/r@pe reader x character fan fictions? you guys are genuinely gross. I don't want to know your damn intrusive thoughts 💀 "its so gross irl" then why write it?? are you stupid? if you think its gross then why do you write it down..i have blocked SO MANY people because they add something stupid shit like "dad!jing yuan x daughter reader" and its fuckin r@pe too. kys bro. you're psycho and insane. she ALSO makes those fan fictions to satisfy those same feelings for her blood relative brother. IRL!!! so its NOT just purely fiction either.

[gothghostiie]

something babysitter!reader waiting for price to drive them home while he's on video call with one of his friends, the little one in his lap, tapping around on the screen; until it somehow does something to make the screen go weird. he chuckles and shows you, inevitably holding the camera right onto you for a moment and showing you before turning it back on him. all you hear from the phone now is a curious hum. "who's the lil' tulip on the couch?"

[sirrabbithat]

Price wearing full winter gear: "HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?!?!"

Graves from under three jackets: "t this is bullshit."

Nikolia shirtless in the snow: "this is warm. You two just have thin skin."

[thatoneautisticshark]

Cw sex, talk of rough domming.

Price would love to be a mean dom. He really would. Harsher, obviously within boundaries, it's always been an attractive thing to him.

The issue is he can't help himself. He spews praise mindlessly. Telling the other how good they are doing, how pretty they look, gentle kisses wherever he can reach.

And he knows they are okay, but seeing his partner cry, snaps him out of the mood. He trusts whoever he is with would safe word. He trusts his boys, but everytime, he stops.

And then, when 141 finally add a certain Nikolai to the relationship, he is easy going in any way, for subbing and domming. Although he has a certain fantasy to Dom the captain.

And after some long negotiations, they finally do it. And Price realised he in fact doesn't want to be a rough Dom, but be roughed up by a dom.

He cums the fastest he has since he was a teen.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Maybe support me on kofi?🥺👉👈

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

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The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work. 

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had. 

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road. 

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate. 

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive. 

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion. 

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left. 

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look. 

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another. 

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything. 

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction. 

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John. 

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

[luvfy0dor]

“You Know That I'm Obsessed With Your Body ♡⁠˖” BSD Men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma, H.P. Lovecraft

Warnings; Suggestive, kisses, hickeys, bite marks, allusions to self harm (Dazai), sh scars (Dazai), prolly a little ooc

Description; BSD men and their physical attributes

A/n; CAS lyric title!!! But I cannot bring myself to write reqs RN so............but guys i actually talked to a guy OMG never thought I'd have big enough balls but I got his ig ^w^

⑅Chuuya Nakahara⑅

Chuuyas arms are beautiful to you, they're not insanely buff and they're not thin, but at a perfect equilibrium. They're decorated with intricate tattoos and beautiful colors, and sometimes small dotted lines left by your teeth or maroon spots formed by your love and passion for each other. You loved feeling them wrap around your torso or waist with him leaning his head against your back, letting all the thoughts in his mind flow from his mouth like a waterfall. Other times, he'd hang his arms over your shoulders, letting you feel his biceps against the nape of your neck, ghosting over the baby hairs on your skin. His arms can carry you too, no matter your weight. If it'd make you feel better, he'd use his ability to help and reassure you that he won't drop you or let you get hurt.

“There we go, darlin', see, I told you I wouldn't let you get hurt. Literally not even the strongest gust of wind could knock me over with you right now, so quit worrying.”

⑅Osamu Dazai⑅

Dazai has such a gorgeous torso, bandaged or not. His skin is soft on contrast to the rough and volatile life he's always lead. The only patches of skin that aren't smooth are the ones that are littered with past scars, whether self inflicted or from other people. When Dazai trusts you enough, he'll ask you to help him take off his bandages before bed, letting your fingers brush over the rigid bumps and sharply inhaling while adjusting to your sweet touch in a new, naked place. He lets you kiss the scars and it helps him feel a little relaxed receiving your acceptance through soft kisses and affection instead of being pitied or shamed for his past. It's not like you encourage it, but you don't waste your breath on lecturing him on why he shouldn't have. It's in the past, so instead you'll offer your support for him now rather than dwelling on what you can't change.

“Mmnn...your lips are so soft on my back, baby...keep going, sweetheart, you know how much I love feeling your kisses on my skin...”

⑅Nikolai Gogol⑅

Nikolais thighs could resurrect a dead man, and you couldn't help but feel the same way every time you had your head between or against them. Occasionally your hands would hold them apart and squeeze or grope at them, feeling the firmness beneath the palm of your hand. The pressure from your fingertips leaves temporary pale spots with every pinch and your teeth and tongue leave red ones in your wake as you kiss, suck, and bite all over his thigh, and he loves it. Nikolai loves the harsh feeling of your teeth clamping around his skin, making him gasp and giggle in excitement with a hand on your neck encouraging you to continue. He's got a higher pain tolerance, so if you like to give lovebites, especially on thighs, he's your guy.

“Ah-! Oh, don't worry dove, it doesn't hurt. You know I have a good pain tolerance! You can keep going, hehe, I don't mind it.”

⑅Fyodor Dostoevsky⑅

Fyodors hands are thin and pale aside from some select spots with higher blood concentration. His nails are bitten down to the quick almost always and his fingers are bony and thin. They rest gently on your hips when you sit on his lap while he types or just relaxes with you, his thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric of either your top or bottoms. Sometimes they'll travel upwards, resting against your midsection and making you shiver from their low temperature. He'd laugh under his breath at your reaction and slide them further up, loving the idea that he has you squirming in his grasp. Otherwise, he'd keep a hand on your thigh, rubbing it out of habit modestly. In public he keeps his hands to himself, but in private his hands have a mind of their own.

“Are they that cold, Moya Lyubov? You'll get used to it eventually, unless you'd like to find your own way to warm my hands up?”

⑅Sigma⑅

Sigmas jawline is so defined and Everytime you look at it, an overwhelming urge to kiss along it bubbles up inside of you. Sigma doesn't dislike it, but he'll act like he does, always squirming and playfully grimacing. Eventually he'll give in though, holding your hand while you pepper soft pecks along his skin. He'll return them all over your cheeks and nose, tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can't help but watch Sigmas fingers trace over his jawline while he's deep in thought about this that and the other, admiring how perfect it looks on him.

“H-hey, knock it off, I'm in the middle of fillin' out papers! I said quit it- huff...fine, just a few though! You're really distracting, you know that?”

Bonus; ⑅ H.P. Lovecraft⑅

His hair is so long and luscious- how could you not want to run your fingers through it while your sleepy boyfriend lays his head in your lap? The upper half is smooth and straight while it changes into silky curls towards the bottom, though they're not the tightest and allow for your fingers to brush through them with minimal effort. He loves the feeling of your hands against his scalp, giving soft hums and groans of a relaxed pleasure. His face has his usual neutrality regardless of how nice it feels to get his head massaged by his lover. He frequently lets you pull it into a ponytail or put it into braids or whatever style you please. He lets you brush it, too, as long as you start at the bottom instead of ripping the brush through his hair.

“Mnn...that feels nice, dear...don't mind if I fall asleep on top of you, I can't help it.”

A/n; I feel so bad for not getting to requests, something like this was the easiest thing to do this week though because I had mock trial comp right after school so i couldn't write anything from 8am-7;30 pm some nights and it was the end of the quarter so i had to focus more on school work.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

You're Only Sixteen

wc: ~3.6k

summary: child soldier gets into task force 141 part TWO, things are getting a bit funny; first part, third part

warnings: description of scars, some violance (combat training)

a/n: I'm actually pretty shocked of how well this fic is going, I hope you're all enjoying this so far, and the plot's is going to intesify a bit the longer this goes on.... and I'm talking too much. Have fun!

Waking up to the familiar alarm is hard enough, but eventually making yourself ready for the first training together is harder. You put on your new uniform and make yourself look more presentable, only to stop midway by the mirror. Your eyes move instinctivley towards your neck. There's no material covering your neck area, making you slightly anxious. There is a long scar across your neck; the scar tissue white and stands out a bit. You feel your deep scar across your neck that goes horizontally through your skin with a slight curve up to your jaw. Hopefully no one will notice. But how is it possible to ignore such thing? There will be questions, there will be eyes on you all the time, there will definitely be snarky comments, and... deep breath in and out. It's no one's business, and you don't owe an explanation to anyone anyway.

Picking up your last courage for today, you walk out of your bunk to the training hall. Walking in, you see a few other soldiers training together, and also Price seemingly waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. He notices you almost immediately and waves you over to him.

»Good morning. Sleep well?«

You shrug, answering him. »Yeah, good enough.«

»Great, you'll need it today.« Perfect, so he planned something tough for today, that's for sure. Shortly after, Ghost and Soap arrive into the hall, as well as Gaz, who seems to be in a good mood. Price claps once, having the attention of everyone on him. He announces the morning stretch you'll be doing first and the next exercise has got to be some teamwork exercise already.

The supposed 'morning stretch' was nothing short of relaxing, but lucky enough you're flexible and got along just fine. Afterwards, the first exercise begins, and as Price explains it, the more you start to think he can't be serious.

»Trust falls?« Soap asks again, also not having expected this exercise to be the first one. Usually, they never do something like this together since they already trust each other with their lives. Price nods, hands on his hips and dead serious. »Who wants to start?«

You're stiff, silently looking around while hoping you won't get picked out. Luckily, Gaz raises his hand slightly and volunteers as first for the trust falls. The captain smiles and nods once more, letting him pick a person to fall against. He chose Soap as some might've expected, and they do it naturally. Nothing bad happens, they trust each other, and one catches the other. They repeat it after switching also, nothing spectacular happening. You watch silently, arms crossed and with nothing to do. It's almost amusing to watch these buffed military guys do silly things, like trust falls. Next was Ghost and Soap, then Price and Gaz with the others. It's awkward now for you since you're the last one, having to just fall back and trust the other to catch you. How can you not feel at least a little awkward while doing it?

»C'mon, it's fun. Just trust us.« Soap encourages you before you could say anything in the first place and already opens his arms for you. There's really nothing you can do but accept your fate and do the trust fall, knowing you have no choice but to trust them all as your teammates. You turn your back to him with a small sigh and close your eyes before falling back, feeling how he indeed catches you right up and lets you sink down a little more. He feels strong and big against your back, not that you doubted it. Soap leans you back up, and you stand up straight again. You hate to admit it but it was fun. Maybe you'd do it again... oh, you need to do it again. Trust falls with everyone, remember?

Price wants to be the next one to do it with you, an almost loving smile across his lips and open arms as he steps up to you. You do the same as before and fall, feeling how he catches you the same and lets you stand right back up afterwards. He pats your shoulder lightly and steps away, looking to the others to see who wants to go next.

»Me next.« Gaz states with a raised hand, standing at the same pose as the other two before. You can't help but crack a small, tiny smile at that before turning back around and falling back, trusting them all by now. The last one should be Ghost, and to be honest, it's somehow scary. Maybe it's his height or his aura, but there's no choice but to trust him. Eventually, you fall, back and he catches you just the same as the others, feeling as if he's more careful with you for whatever reason. But that could be just your mind hallucinating at this point.

The next station for this training session is more serious and requires more technique and skill. You're glad, it's something you're good at and won't be awkward to complete.

Knife melee. With fake combat knives. Each gets a combat knife to fight with and a randomly assigned partner. You get to be paired up with Gaz, and he shoots you a soft smile before standing in front of you to test out your true skills. Price is mostly there to watch over everyone and lead the practice, standing not too far off the big mat.

»You go first, I'll try to go easy too.« Gaz tells you with a small nod, waiting for you to attack and see how you'll do. Or maybe he's just too afraid to hurt you, knowing how young you are.

»Okay.« You think for a split second before going straight in, grabbing his right wrist with your left hand, pushing it out while moving the blade close to his neck. Gaz is briefly surprised at your attack, especially with how you went straight at him. But he's strong enough to bend his right wrist slightly and wrap his left arm over to grab his knife with his non-dominant hand. You didn't expect this to happen, being spooked for a moment by the sudden action of him wrapping his arm over you just so he has his knife in his free hand. He presses his knife against your stomach just enough for it to be touching your shirt and is about to swipe your feet off the ground.

You back up, trying to kick off the blade off his hand quickly, in which you fail. You don't want to hurt him, but you also know that it's just training and minor injuries are normal. You know it from the camp, but this feels different. You have... more respect for them. Getting back to reality, you're the one who sweeps his feet off the ground, kneeling over him and pressing your knee against his chest with your knife against his throat once more but not pressing onto him.

»Fine- you win.« He gives up and throws his hands up in defence, looking to you impressed. You get off him and give him a hand to stand back up, feeling like he went too soft on you on purpose.

»Was that all you had?« You ask before being able to think about your words longer, not meaning to sound rude. »What? Of course not. Told you I was going easy on you.« He shrugs with a small chuckle, dusting his pants off quickly before standing straight.

»Want me to attack first?«

»Fine-«

He's quick to land a kick to the side of your thigh, making you wince lightly, but you quickly regain your focus and step out of his way. You quickly kick him into his side instead, knocking out his breath briefly. Gaz realises how strong you actually are and decides to go harder on you. There's a sharp pain on your ribs before you feel the dull slice from his fake combat knife against your arm. You give him a rather irritated look before going in once more, slicing across his chest with your own fake knife before kicking him into his chest. He stumbles back, once more out of breath. It's your chance to get close to him and strike another attack, so you do just that. You step closer to him quickly and jab a few more slices against his ribs before kicking his legs in. He's on the ground and probably more out of breath than you. Gaz looks up to you and catches his breath before standing back up, not giving up yet.

»Where'd you learn that?« He questions almost confusedly and simultaneously thinks of another approach at you for his next attack. You shrug, not giving him an answer as you're studying his stance. He's about to cage you in, that's for sure, with his wide stance. That's got to be the most annoying technique for you, not liking how it feels like to be trapped or pinned by anyone. Moving your eyes back at his, you waste no time to kick against him once more, but he catches it.

He has your ankle in his hand and twists it enough for you to lose balance and fall to the ground. You huff and try to get back up quickly, but he's fast, kicking your knife out of your wrist.

Price watches you both fight, and he must admit you're quite strong. Beating Gaz twice? That's already impressive for him. He watches as you manage to fight yourself out of his pin, having him on the ground instead. You both fight like siblings at this point, at least that's how Price views it. He sees that Gaz is still trying to be gentle with you even though he doesn't need to. You're highly trained and fast, thinking logically as well. Meanwhile, Soap gets his ass beat by Ghost since he's trying to watch you fight but gets awfully distracted that way.

Price keeps most of his attention on you both anyway, being curious about how much longer Gaz will be gentle with you before being sick of losing every time. After losing for the fifth time, Gaz stops fighting for a moment.

»Wanna catch a break?«

»If you say so.« You agree and shrug lightly, having a light coat of sweat but being nowhere near done. You're still full of energy but also can't wait to sleep tonight.

»So, how do you like it on the base so far?« He asks, his tone friendly and voice smooth. His eyes are on you, hands on his hips.

»Yeah, it's... fine. Like a base.« There's just no way you can answer otherwise, not sure of how to answer it anyway. You press your lips together lightly, unsure of how to continue. Gaz is rather talkative, so you're grateful for that as he goes on, seemingly wanting to get to know you better.

»You should check out the mess hall too, the food‘s a bit plain, but it's cosy in there.« That's great information however, you do not know how to respond to that.

»Cool.« With a light nod and a more or less forced smile, glancing away shortly after. Gaz notices that you don't seem to talk much, having a similarity with Ghost on that. He accepts it however, and stretches his arms before suggesting another round which, you also agree on.

You're sweating way more now after the training session ended, Price saying that it's time to have lunch and just have a normal day afterwards. The sun is fully up, it's a warm day outside for once and there are no annoying people around you. Until Soap is approaching you on the way out from the training hall.

»Wanna eat lunch all together? It won't be boring, promise.« He suggests with a friendly smile and waits for your answer, coming off more excited than you.

»Uh, yeah. Where's the mess hall again?« You ask sheepishly since you have no clue how this building is laid out, let alone know where the exit is again. »Oh, you haven't been shown around, eh? Well, I'll just show ye around after lunch. The mess hall's on the first floor, 's pretty easy to find.«

Soap explains to you shortly, having faith in you that you won't get lost on your own. You simply nod back in response and make a mental note of where the mess hall should be, retreating back into your own bunk after taking a shower.

You're hesitant at first, having considered just skipping lunch, but you can't let the others hang. So, you make your way to the mess hall shortly after putting on new clothes, making sure to cover your neck once more. Stopping mid-change, you realise something. No one made comments or even looked at your scar earlier. You expected the total opposite, now trying to remember any moment that was close to some of your expectations, but there were none. Maybe, just maybe, they don't care. Not in the rude way, but in a way that they won't judge you. Well, considering the small but slightly more visible scar on Soap‘s chin, there's a chance they just don't want to pick on you with stuff they also have. Brushing away those thoughts, you enter the mess hall and are shortly after greeted with Soap. He stands out from the crowd with the way he waves at you, seeming to be excited to show you around or just have an addition like you on the team.

»Hungry? I don't know about you, but I am.«

His ways of starting a conversation with you are always a little strange. The way he is more energetic around you and is being overly friendly while trying to use 'modern slang' is slightly off-putting.

Ghost would be greater company at this point. You don't say anything, too caught up in the large hall and all the people around that are patiently getting their food for themselves.

»Well, there's where the food is, the trays and the utensils. Alrighty?«

»Alright.« You answer slightly unsure and look to where everyone is picking up their food, seeing that it won't be too difficult. Picking up a tray for yourself, a plate, and a few utensils, you make your way to the buffet. There's an option between a vegetarian meal that looks mostly... bland and another meal that doesn't look too bad. Soap is before you and loads his plate with the second option, grabbing a glass of water afterwards. You do the same, considering the vegetarian food seems too dry to even look at. Sitting down at a free table where Gaz is already seated, shooting a friendly smile your way.

His teammate sits down beside him and you on the opposite of them, taking a last look around the huge mess hall.

»How was the training for ye today?« Soap starts again while stuffing a bite into his mouth, ready to listen to whatever response you'll give.

»It was fine. Easier than at my camp.« Soap quirks his brow at you, asking further. »Easier? What'd you do at your camp, then?«

Ah, there it is. Finally, the burning question that seemed to have been on their minds since the day you arrived, even though they won't admit it verbally.

»Well, any kinds of things. We had a big variety and did everything a little every day.« You explain calmly, leaving out a lot of things for now and just giving out useful and light stuff. Gaz glances at you while eating his own meal, listening quietly to the conversation between you two.

»Everythin'? What was everythin'?«

God, he's giving you no chance to eat right now, is he? »Combat, shooting, underwater training, hostage saving, medical training... oh, and our stamina.« He nearly chokes on his food while you finally take your first bite, thinking it tastes quite good. For military food, it's actually quite good, it tastes fresh and is warm- »Everyday? Every focking day?«

»Language, McTavish...« A familiar, rough voice is heard from behind him, and he quickly glances back to see his Captain. Price takes a seat beside you, facing the two other teammates.

»Sorry, did you hear what she just said? That's like- that's... that should be illegal-«

»I know, Soap.«

He interrupts him again, giving him a hard look. He's either trying to stop him from saying something that could hurt you or is just fed up for some other reason.

»I'm glad we don't have such hard training here. That's it.« Soap realises that he may have gotten too far with his reaction and tries to be more calm and himself from now on. The problem is now that it's awkward because no one talks for a solid minute or two.

»Where is Ghost?« You speak up for the first time by yourself, not able to listen to the silence around the table any longer. Price answers your question calmly, seeing no reason to keep that from you.

»He eats alone, mostly. Or does some paperwork right now.« So, no one really knows what he's doing at breaks. That's something you could have expected from someone like him.

»Do you think his mask looks cool?« Gaz chimes in and looks at you almost amused, waiting for your answer. Soaps eyes also study you now, waiting curiously on your answer. Unsure of what to say, you answer them briefly.

»I mean, it's not bad.« Gaz shoots his teammate a quick look with a small nod, telling him something without saying anything. Soap sulks a little about your response, having hoped you'd say something more positive.

»Told you...« It's very quiet from Gaz and non-threatening, but you still heard it and now feel curious about what these two jokesters are talking about. Price continues to eat his own meal as he's not fascinated by their usual antics, seeing no reason to dig deeper and find out what they're on. That is until Soap notices your confused stare and wants to clear the confusion.

»We had a bet. I thought you'd find Ghost‘s mask cool, but wha'ever.« He shrugs and now has to pay five pounds to Gaz, having officially lost the bet. You can't help it but be amused by it, seeing how they're all trying to understand you, but know absolutely nothing about you but your age and name. They probably think you're like most teenagers, thinking in stereotypes, and you choose to just watch them trying to figure you out.

»He was actually quite scary at first.« You mumble, carefully trying out talking more to them and letting them get to know you more. It's something new for you to be able to be so open and casual with new people that are much older than you. Even though Soap is about ten years older than you, it still seems a lot. It's a whole decade, either way.

»Well, yeah, Ghost has his way to scare people off. But don't take it personally, he's got a good soul.« You glance at Price saying that, reassuring you about Ghost.

What kind of name is that anyway?

»Hm, depends on how you see it. He's only friendly to people he likes. Like a cat.« Gaz shrugs, adding his opinion on Ghost. You're all lucky he's not there with you right now, considering that he would shoot death glares at everyone. You listen to them, being invested in their opinions and views on him since you know nothing about him. »But he doesn't scratch us. So, that's good.« Price jokes, probably still trying to reassure you mostly and not let you get spooked. Eventually, after some more exchanges, Soap is standing up and wants to finally show you around the base. You accept and follow him out, curious to see the whole base and not get lost from now on. He walks through the building and shows you the important parts first: showers and bunks, training rooms and halls, shooting range, going on about the storage rooms, and eventually making your way outside the base. There's a small park attached to the base, great for taking small walks.

»Wanna go for a round?«

»I don't see why not.« You can't help it but still want to add that respective 'sir' at the end of a sentence. It feels like disrespecting him, but they made it clear how open and friendly you can talk to them way earlier.

Walking besides Soap is somehow calming, not needing to talk much when he does most of the talking. »You handled the surprise attack well, yesterday. Just try to warn us before firing, though.« You nod and look away slightly embarrassed, knowing you forgot to give them a sign before doing something like that.

»Sorry, thought too quick.« »'S fine, I'm actually impressed. Were ye taught that back in yer camp?« Soap can't help but be curious and ask questions, making sure to be careful with his wording.

»Yes, kind of. It's always smarter to be meaner to the enemies, so they don't have a chance.« Soap shrugs lightly, thinking about that statement. »Well, yeah... but aggressive approach is not always the best, you know?« He eyes you for a moment, continuing to walk beside you through the small park.

»It really depends on the situation and enemy, there.« You reply back after a second of considering his words, not realising that you once again impressed him.

a/n: came out a bit floppy, but the next part will most likely be better, pwomise :33

[shakespearseclipse]

Cause I know that it’s delicate

Summary: Nikolai and y/n have been friends and nothing more. But what happens, when the feelings between them change? Part ll of Is it chill that you’re in my head?

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: After WEEKS I finally present part two. Constructive criticism is always appreciated since this is the first thing I've posted online.

Nikolai regretted leaving you standing at the lake within five minutes, but he found it quite stupid to go back now. So, he continued his walk towards his room. His mind couldn’t decide what to think about. It was like watching a tennis match between you in that dress and that stupid guy that had asked you out and whether you said yes or no.

He was such an idiot. He should’ve done something to stop that Inferni from asking you out. Nikolai didn’t trust that guy and besides, his best friend deserved something better. Like a king maybe. There was a slight possibility that Tamar had been right and he did have feelings for y/n. After brooding for what seemed to be another hour, he decided to seek you out.

You hadn’t been on any dates for quite a while. Trying to help your new king, you spent most of your time with Nikolai, not having a lot of time for your love life. The prospect of going on a date filled you with anticipation, though your thoughts always swayed back to a certain blond. The way he looked today seemed to be glued to the inside of your brain. Your mind kept switching between thinking about his arms, his back and his abs. God you felt like your head was going to explode with how red your cheeks were. Genya, whom you had asked to help you get ready, misinterpreted your more than noticeable blush.

“The way you’re looking right now, this guy has to be the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.”

“What? No, I wasn’t thinking about… Actually, I was thinking about the way Nikolai acted today. It was a little confusing.”

Genya had a huge smirk plastered on her face.

“You’re about to go on a date with someone, and everything you can think about is Nikolai?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

Genya’s smirk grew even more, if possible.

“Oh, come on, everyone knows how infatuated you are with each other.”

“He’s not infatuated with me, we are friends and nothing more.”

“Y/n darling I hate to break it to you, but you can be as oblivious as a goose.”

“A goose?”

“Oh, you know what I mean. Did you know that some of us have bets going on about who will confess their feelings first.”

“Well, that’s lovely. You’re telling me my love life is so pathetic you guys are betting on it?”

You were growing a little impatient with Genya. First, she was trying to tell you that Nikolai was in love with you, which was impossible, right? Yes, he was often flirting with you, but that was just how your friendship worked. Plus, he was king and couldn’t be in a relationship with a heartrender. While Grisha were generally more accepted in Ravka than for example in Fjerda, a Grisha could never sit on the Throne. Why were you even thinking about this? Genya had really gotten into your head. Nikolai wasn’t in love with you, end of discussion.

“Either way, I have to be on my way now or I’ll be late to my date with Dmitri.”

“Dmitri? He’s a nice guy. Although I suppose a certain king is a little more appealing to you, considering how hard you were staring at him the second he took off his shirt.”

“You were at the lake today?”

Genya snickered. “Oh, yes. Though I could have probably seen your staring from a mile away.”

“Will you stop it? You’ve obviously been in the workshops with David too often and lost your mind.”

“If that makes you happy. Have fun on your date.”

Dmitri and you had a lot of fun and tons of things to talk about, and the hours between afternoon and evening had become blurry by the time the two of you decided to eat dinner together. Walking side by side, his hand occasionally brushing yours, you couldn’t help but think about how nice this felt. Even though you had banished Nikolai from your mind during the date, thoughts of him were in the back of your head, waiting to jump back into the front of your mind. But you wouldn’t think of him. Not when you were having such a great time with Dmitri. After a dinner with lots of laughter and jokes, Dmitri offered to bring you back to your room.

“So, I had a great time today.” you tentatively began.

“Yes! Me too. I’d like to go out with you again if you’re up for it.” He seemed happy that you had brought the topic up. Before you could open the door to your room, he quickly took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the top of your hand.

“Goodnight.”

He was gone before you could reply. Cheeks still a little rosy from his kiss, you went into your room and closed the door behind you.

"How was your date?"

"Saints! Nikolai what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you obviously. So, how was your date?"

Nikolai was laying on your bed as if it was his. Well, since he was the king, it probably did belong to him. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to answer his question.

"It was ... nice"

He nodded slowly, as if in deep thought.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

His eyes snapped up to yours as he started to make his way over to you. A grin was forming on his stupidly beautiful face.

"I wanted to talk about how freakishly handsome I am." You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped from your lips.

"I always knew you were vain but breaking into my bedroom to talk about your appearance seems like a new low to me."

By now he had reached you, standing close, leaning slightly towards you, so that your faces were only breaths apart. Both of your faces turned serious again, both breathing the same air.

"Y/n, when you agreed to going on a date with this guy I could only think of two things. How much I hated that guy and how stupid I was for letting him get to you first. I wanted to be the one to make you laugh. I wanted to be the one to take you out for dinner. If you don't feel the same -"

"Shut up" You breathed out before grabbing the kings collar and pulling his lips against yours. He immediately answered your kiss. Wrapping his arms around your waist while yours were tangled in his hair. When you both broke apart to catch your breath, Nikolai looked very happy with himself.

"Now lets get back to the reason I came in here." You raised your eyebrows in question.

"To talk about how freakishly handsome I am"

"Oh shut up" You said before pulling him in for another kiss. He smiled against your lips and you felt as if you were on top of the world.

Tags:

@going-through-shit

[gloomwitchwrites]

I would LOVE to hear more of your thoughts on Nikolai with a Daddy kink because I'm stupidly weak for big scary Russian dudes and you do the words well

Nikolai is only big and scary when he needs to be. (And I do do the words well, don't I?)

mdni (gn!reader)

Loves a good power dynamic, especially a consensual one. It's simple and to the point. He loves it when his partner is completely submissive, but a little bad behavior doesn't hurt either.

Not entirely into the full roleplay aspect, but does enjoy hearing you call him "daddy" as much as he enjoys calling you his "baby" or "little girl/boy." Pet names are a must for him. And just imagine him calling you a pet name with that accent...*swoon*

Obey him, and he'll reward you (sexually and financially). Disobey, and get a punishment (or two)

An absolute soft dom. He prefers to praise over degrading you. As much as he wants to be dominant, he also wants you to feel protected and safe with him. Also, he's Russian. He firmly believes it is his responsibility to look after you in all ways.

Totally open to using toys and props of all kinds.

Very verbal in and out of the bedroom. Behind closed doors, he's telling you how good you are while giving him head and how pretty his cum looks dripping out of you, to complimenting your choice in outfit. The man has many talents.

A big ole' tease. He loves building the anticipation of sex, especially threatening to withdraw sex when you're being naughty. It pushes the boundaries of control, and you both get off on it.

Will completely take care of you financially. Want new clothes? A wax? Hair done? Whatever. He's covering it. No problem.

As much as he pays your bills and buys you things, he also cares about your well-being.

Aftercare is perfect. Every. Time. No notes.

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